


Time

by ddagent



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Bedside confession, F/F, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 23:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12220902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: After Pippa is injured, Hecate rushes to her bedside.





	Time

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @tasha-vick who prompted: "okay,how about Hecate's thoughts on Pippa after their reconciliation and then how she decides to finally confess her feelings via something dangerous happening to Pippa(i am a sucker for that trope:)))" I didn't quite manage the first part but I hope you enjoy this fic all the same!

A shadow had settled across her all day. Uneasiness had formed in the pit of her stomach; a sense of dread crawled across her skin. Hecate had known something was wrong. Although she claimed no talent for divination, something on the wind told her trouble was coming. Yet Mildred Hubble was on her best behaviour. No inadequate transformations; no exploded potion labs. Agatha Cackle remained in her picture frame and the Grand Wizard was off doing what Grand Wizard’s did.

Hecate knew something was coming. But she had been wrong in thinking it would happen at Cackle’s.

The raven arrived after breakfast. Hecate was summoned shortly after. The pink ink scrawled across the scroll in Ada’s hand was all it took. “Pippa.”

“I’ll arrange a supply witch for your lessons today.”

Hecate swallowed; maintaining her composure in front of her headmistress. “Thank you, Ada.”

It took three spells for her to arrive at the infirmary in Pentangle’s Academy. A transportation spell to take her to her chambers where her broomstick stood. A calming draft, already brewed for anxious young witches, to steady her hand. Finally, a locater spell for inside Pentangle’s as she had never visited Pippa’s school before. They had talked about it in the letters they shared; so similar to the ones exchanged during their schooldays at the Sanderson School for Exceptional Witches. But they were all grown up now, and it was difficult to make time for the other. Time had simply run out.

Time. So precious. More precious than Hecate had ever thought.

The infirmary was quiet when she entered. A few sniffling children; the whisper of pages as they read in their beds. It was warm, warmer than Cackle’s; the brickwork bright rather than the colour of stone. Lurid pink curtains gave privacy to those who required it. Through a gap in the linen Hecate could see a young wizard, no older than Mildred Hubble; his face bubbled in burns. So young. So innocent. Hecate felt that shadow loom over her. The uneasiness in her stomach weighed like a stone. Dread crawled and itched and burrowed until she wanted to claw it out with her own fingernails. I’ll brew whatever is needed, she promised herself. I’ll locate long dead ingredients and I’ll brew on three successive full moons if I have to. Anything…for her.

The infirmary nurse slipped out of a curtained bed at the far end. She looked at Hecate; raised a single eyebrow. “Miss Pentangle is still healing. Please keep your visit brief.”

“Of course.”

Hecate followed the path of the departing witch. Through the curtain and, then, Pippa. She was lying in the infirmary bed; her blonde hair lifeless against the pillow. Pink cheeks and plump lips were pale and chapped. A healing salve was smeared against her neck. But Pippa smiled, oh how she smiled, when she saw her. “Hiccup.”

“Pipsqueak.” Hecate swallowed; folding herself into the single chair beside the bed. “I’ve seen you look better.

“As have I.”

“What happened?”

Confusion lined Pippa’s face. “Did you not read the letter?”

Her face flushed a similar colour to the brickwork. “I-I…” She stammered. “I did not have time.”

Pippa’s smile reached her eyes this time; bringing light to her face. “Desperate to see me, were we?”

“I-I…” How was it that this woman could reduce her to a blithering mess with just a look and a few well-placed syllables? Infuriating. Unbecoming. Her cheeks were now the colour of a cheeriness potion. This would not do. “I simply wished to see if Pentangle’s was in need of a new headmistress.”

“Not today.” Pippa lifted her hand from the bed sheets and clasped Hecate’s own. “You’ll have to put up with me for a little while longer, Hiccup.”

“If I must.”

But the thought of a life otherwise hit Hecate like a broom to the head. There had been decades where she had hated perfect Pippa and the perfect witches close to her; loathed herself for feelings that lay both unrequited and out of her control. But Pippa had still been living, breathing, then. Hecate tried to imagine a world where Pentangle’s had lost their headmistress and her feelings had remained unspoken as they had for over thirty years. She tried to picture a life where she knew her happiness potion would never be complete; where a strand of hair from something you love would be forever out of reach.

“I suppose…what I really mean is…” Hecate looked down at their hands; at the brush of Pippa’s thumb against her skin. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

She smiled. “You won’t. You’ll always be my best friend, Hecate.” Pippa squeezed her hand; her touch shaking loose the shadows, the uneasiness. “You will always be the first witch I ever loved.”

Loved. How scared she had been of that idea: fifteen and struggling with her own thoughts let alone the constant whispers and taunts. Hecate’s so tall; she doesn’t need a weather potion to tell her whether it’s raining. Hecate’s hair is so dark it’s like a cat died on her head. I heard Hecate likes other witches; she’s always trailing after Pippa like a lost familiar. But those words faded as Pippa’s hand rested against her cheek. She had been so brave. It was now time for Hecate to return the favour.

“Pippa Pentangle, you remain the only witch I have ever…loved.” She swallowed. “I’m so grateful I got the chance to say that.”

“As am I, Hiccup.” A pink nail ran along Hecate’s bottom lip. She closed her eyes; savoured the contact. “I’ve waited so long to hear it.”

“I’m sorry I wasted so much time.”

Pippa shook her head; staring at Hecate with more love than she deserved. “We’re witches, Hecate. We can make more time.” 

Every moment she had not known Pippa’s fate had felt like an eternity. Hecate was glad that their first kiss, soft and chaste in Pentangle’s infirmary, seemed to last forever too.


End file.
